


“What? You think you’re the only one suffering?”

by thenorthernwastrel



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23294968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenorthernwastrel/pseuds/thenorthernwastrel
Summary: Reaver and Sparrow have finished a mission and haveverydifferent takes on it.
Relationships: Hero of Bowerstone & Reaver (Fable)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	“What? You think you’re the only one suffering?”

“What? You think you’re the only one suffering?”  


Reaver rolled his eyes, and continued his train of thought. “Look at me! It’s an absolute disaster! Yes, _you_ may be injured, but just _look_ at my hair!”

Sparrow just rolled their eyes right back at him. They were limping badly; they’d taken a bullet through the calf and really should have been resting, especially considering it wasn’t the only injury the battle had left them with, but knew their Hero blood would keep it from being a nuisance later on. They were almost completely covered in old blood (both theirs and others’) and bits of mud—but _Light forbid_ Reaver’s _hair_ be one strand out of place.

They didn’t say anything though, and just continued to listen to his emphatic whining. 

“I just _knew_ going on this ‘ _mission_ ’ with you was a bad idea! I didn’t even agree to it!”—though he _had_ , otherwise he would not have been there, Sparrow knew—”We don’t even fight well together—-Oh that blind _bat_ —!”  


They looked to him then, finding slight amusement with his apparent genuine frustration. He didn’t look at all bad; his clothes were somewhat ruffled (though more from his own quick movements than anything else), there were some specks of mud on his shoes, his face a bit flushed—nothing one shouldn’t expect from a simple walk in the woods surely, let alone one infested with bandits and highwaymen. In fact, they had to admit he looked pretty damn good, all things considered; but of course, it wasn’t enough for the Hero of skill to look only ‘ _pretty good_ ’.

Catching the hint of smile on their face, Reaver pulled a face of exasperation and scoffed. “Oh what are _you_ so pleased about? You nearly got yourself killed! And I daresay you would have, too, if _I_ had not been there to _valiantly_ save you.” His gaze returned to the road ahead of them, one hand again on his hip and the other holding up his pistol in what Sparrow ardently felt was a most _unnecessary_ and showy fashion. “Yes, if my gun had not met that bandit’s head his cleaver surely would have met yours—even _you_ could not survive such a _brutal_ blow, hm?”

Sparrow smiled a bit more, and nodded, though at that point they weren’t entirely sure themself.

“Yes, quite right. No need to _thank me_ of course, I only _saved your life_. Just remain as silent as always—I would want nothing else!” He pulled out a hand mirror from _somewhere_ Sparrow couldn’t make out, and began adjusting himself, somehow managing to walk over every bump and obstacle in their path while fixedly doing so.

It occupied him for a few minutes, and distracted him too—-Long enough for Sparrow to muster the ability to speak for the first time in his presence.

“Thanks.”  



End file.
